


78. “I’m just looking out for you.”

by KittenKin



Series: Drabble Prompt Fills [22]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenKin/pseuds/KittenKin
Summary: Can be read as Reichenbach Feels or honestly anywhere in the series after Sherlock leaves John behind to rush off by himself. Written as a fill for an anonymous Ask received on my tumblr that read:"Hiii! Do you have any fics where Sherlock is a 'bit not good' and hurts John, then has to make it up to him?"
Series: Drabble Prompt Fills [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605655
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	78. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah?! Well, _don’t!_ ” John snarls, sharp and savage, and it makes Sherlock stutter to a halt.

“Why in the world not?” he asks, a little snappy himself, but mostly confused at this uncalled for level of antagonism.

“Why-- what do you mean, WHY?!”

John seems to be, in his own volcanic way, just as perplexed. Sadly, it doesn’t make him any more perspicuous than usual.

“I mean please explain to me the reason that you are so offended by the idea that I want what’s best for you!”

“BECAUSE YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS!” John roars, and Sherlock feels the accusation - the rage and pain - like a shockwave. It knocks the breath out of him, makes him fetch up against his chair and stumble-sit down into it, and snaps him out of his irritation like a backhand across his cheek.

He’s given a quick glance, and seeing him suddenly quiet and quiescent has a similar effect on John. He winces and sighs, then deflates into his own chair, burying his face in his hands. Sherlock feels a twinge of anxiety at the thought that he may be called upon to provide comfort, but soon enough John’s hands scrub up and through his hair before falling into his lap. He sighs and falls back into a weary slouch, and when he speaks, his voice is steady enough.

“It’s amazing, really, how thoughtless and cruel you can be when you’re trying your best to take care of me.”

Sherlock tries to interject, to protest, to defend his methods and actions, but John scrunches his eyes shut as if the mere sound of Sherlock’s voice is causing him pain.

Sherlock shuts up.

“You saved me so soon after meeting me,” John murmurs. “I think you’ve forgotten the state I was in when we first met. Where I’d be right now if we hadn’t met.”

Sherlock remembers; of course he does. All the details he’d rattled off aloud, and the diagnoses he’d kept to himself.

Lost.

Adrift.

Suicidal.

“You did it right at first,” John notes, staring up at the shadows sifting slowly across the ceiling. “Dragged me along into dangerous situations, relied on me for feedback and protection, gave me purpose again. Made me feel alive. Like I wanted to be alive.”

Sherlock sucks in a breath as clarity strikes him. There’s no thrill this time in sudden enlightenment, no excitement when the puzzle suddenly resolves.

“You’re a Karelian bear dog,” he blurts. John lifts his head to give him the are-you-high look. Sherlock hastens to explain.

“A Finnish breed, happiest when it’s treeing bears and running down wild boar. But I’ve been trying to make you into a pampered pet, with clean paws and a fleece-lined bed by the fireplace. And I...oh, I boarded you in a posh kennel and went off to hunt on my own, and to add insult to injury expected you to be grateful.”

When he’s gotten all he can out of the metaphor, Sherlock looks anxiously over. The scowl has melted away, leaving John pensive. He nods slowly, then catches Sherlock’s gaze and smiles ever so slightly before responding.

“Woof.”


End file.
